Number 2

Taste of Cherry, Cutting Down, and Claret

Jan 04, 2021

An Introduction:

Hello again, dear reader. After what I believe to have been a successful first week, I shall now push on and create more content for you to gobble up hungrily like a pack of rather civilized wolves. My thanks must be extended this week to my friend Jack Storey, who has provided a lovely article on claret which you shall encounter below. Once again, feel free to comment, DM, email, and so on.

-Cameron Page Thompson

Notes on Kiarostami’s Taste of Cherry:

This past summer I watched Kiarostami’s Taste of Cherry for the first time, as it was included in a selection of Palme D’Or winners on the Criterion Channel. Upon first viewing I considered it one of the greatest films ever made. Now sometimes our feelings surrounding a certain piece of art can be swayed by our mental state at the time. In the past, mixed emotions in my personal life have allowed lesser works to make more of an impact and vice versa. However, upon watching the film for a second time with my parents the other day, my conceptions of Taste of Cherry were not only solidified, but even increased. This increase could be due to the backlash surrounding the film (and my wish to defend it from said backlash), especially by the critic Roger Ebert, who considers it one of the worst films that he has ever reviewed. Ebert’s review, however, carries little merit, as it is clear from the beginning that by clinging to his establishment, Hollywood bred preconceptions regarding narrative arc and character development, his enjoyment of the film was doomed from the start. His Western ideals preclude his ability to actually appreciate what Kiarostami is attempting to achieve in Taste of Cherry. I would here like to quote Jonathan Rosenbaum, whom if I wrote more about this film I would be likely be plagiarizing. Regarding the opinions of certain critics, including Ebert, on Kiarostami’s reluctance to give the audience details about the film’s protagonist, Mr. Badii, Rosenbaum points out that without viewing the film in the way which Kiarostami intended it is indeed impossible to appreciate it. He cites a statement given by Kiarostami regarding questions surrounding a switch from film to digital at the end of Taste of Cherry:

Perhaps his reason lies in a statement he made three years ago at a conference in Paris: “I believe in a cinema which gives more possibilities and more time to its viewer — a half-fabricated cinema, an unfinished cinema that is completed by the creative spirit of the viewer, [so that] all of a sudden we have a hundred films.” Speaking to Kiarostami the next morning, I discovered that he’d meant this literally, so seeing the ending of Taste of Cherry as something shot on a different stock was perfectly legitimate as far as he was concerned.

Kiarostami here holds the view that if the viewer believes it to be so, then it is so. He leaves his films open for interpretation not because, as some have been quick to claim, he has nothing to say, but instead because he views cinema as collective, rather than a set of objective truths. Therefore, Ebert and his contemporaries were from the start at a disadvantage when it comes to their ability to understand Taste of Cherry simply because they are too stuck in their ways to allow Kiarostami’s inventive form of filmmaking to play out successfully (my parents fall into this category as well, sadly enough, but I give them credit for trying harder than Ebert to enjoy the film). In any case, Ebert’s criticisms were not shared across the board, as Kiarostami’s masterwork did win Cannes’s highest honor, as noted above.

Taste of Cherry was the first film by Kiarostami which I saw, and it made such a profound effect on me that in a mad frenzy in consumed the entirety of his catalogue available for viewing on the Criterion Channel (if you do not yet have a subscription you are missing out). He is, I believe, the director who has given me the most joy each time I watch his films. I hope that you, dear reader, agree upon familiarizing yourself with his work if you have not done so already.

I will end my analysis of the film here, but I highly recommend, dear reader, that you take the time to watch Taste of Cherry and subsequently read the reviews referenced above to determine in which camp you fall. And of course please message me if you do so, as I would love to discuss your views.

Links to the mentioned articles: http://www.jonathanrosenbaum.net/2017/06/fill-in-the-blanks/

https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/taste-of-cherry-1998

In Defense of the Limited Wardrobe:

Now some of you who know me likely just read that title and could not suppress a guffaw. How can Cameron Thompson, the individual who we have known and loved for so long, be advocating for a reduced wardrobe? Is he not always buying new clothes? It may surprise you, dear reader, to find that recently I have discovered the joys of a uniform dressing of sorts. This is not to say that each day I wear a uniform like Tom Ford does with his black suit, white shirt, black tie, and black shoes, but instead that I wear consistently the same reduced set of clothes in rotation. Especially due to my prolonged holiday in Florida, I have been forced to make do with a wardrobe of only the clothes which I packed with me. Let it be noted here that my current wardrobe is by no means small, but is of course smaller than its entirety.

As you, dear reader, hopefully remember, in my last article I wrote regarding my continued pursuit of the “Jagger swagger.” This fascination with such a style has been beneficial, as I mostly packed more formal clothing such as tailored jackets, fine trousers, formal shirts, and ties. My combining of such wardrobe pieces has subsequently forced the realization that I would be happy with these clothes alone (plus for the colder weather my sweaters and overcoat which remained in Edinburgh). Following this line of reasoning, I have decided that a reduction of my current wardrobe is in order. I therefore would like to shamelessly advertise (is this a newsletter or a Depop?) that if one would like to acquire some of my well regarded pieces, I would be happy to give them away for little to no money, depending on what I have on hand. I promise to keep you, dear reader, up to date on my attempts at reduction, and the joys of such actions. Is it possible that you even could due with reducing your wardrobe as well?

(Taking all of the above into account, I would still buy a pair of J.M. Weston 180s in an instant if I had the money)

The Three Clarets of Christmas by Jack Storey:

Christmas 2020 was certainly an unusual one. Friends and families were unable to gather together over the festive period as a result of the Coronavirus restrictions. Celebrations were constrained and traditions went unfulfilled. The Christmas break is usually a large affair in the Storey household, with extended family staying and dining with us throughout the week. This year, as one might imagine, was a little different. It was spent only with my immediate family, including my grandfather, yet the five of us made the most of it, grateful that we were allowed to meet in the first place. In fact, very few things remained unchanged from previous Christmases, namely: the giving of gifts, the Queen’s speech and, crucially for this article, the drinking of wine.

My grandfather and I have always been close. Always had shared passions and outlooks. However, throughout the past two or three years, this closeness has been strengthened and consolidated by my interest in wine. This interest no doubt stems from my childhood obsession with the damp, cold and rather intimidating cellar under his house. As a boy, they could not keep me from venturing down the narrow spiral staircase into the old wine cellar, my infantile curiosity aroused by the exotic names adorning the dusty bottles. I tried in vain to pronounce the Chateaux and distinctly remember my grandfather pointing out one called the ‘White Horse’. Of course, only in hindsight do I realise that this was a bottle of 1982 Château Cheval Blanc, not only one of Bordeaux’s best Châteaux but one of the most desirable vintages of modern times.

Over the course of the festive period, we made a not insubstantial dent in my grandfather’s cellar. I will mention three bottles, not so much as a comparison but rather as a collection of brief thoughts and some context behind these clarets.

2015 Berry Bros and Rudd Extra Ordinary Claret (Approx. £16.95) - This lovely little bottle sets the benchmark for decent claret in the UK today. The wine is from the Graves region just South of the main town of Bordeaux and is uniquely made from a 50/50 blend of Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon. The vineyard where this wine comes from, Château Villa Bel-Air, is owned by the same family who run the Bordeaux heavyweight Château Lynch-Bages, and the quality to price ratio with this wine is phenomenal.

2010 Château Moulin Riche (Approx. £38) - The small appellation of St Julien has long been a favourite of mine, and wine like this one only serves to consolidate this opinion. I had never tried this wine before, and at first, I only noticed the year on the bottle. In Bordeaux, 2009 and 2010 were both exceptional vintages, mainly as a result of near perfect climactic conditions in late Summer and Autumn allowing for harvesting at optional ripeness. I therefore had high expectations for this bottle, and it did not disappoint. On paper, this is a full-bodied wine, but I found it to be much softer and rounder than I expected, and it paired perfectly with our freshly shot pheasant.

2012 Château Montrose (Approx. £87.88) - This was a real treat. Decanted and served alongside our Christmas lunch, I will remember this Second Growth as ‘Great’ wine. A great wine is a work of art, capable of providing aesthetic pleasure to the highest order, although as an everyday drink it is as fitting as Hamlet is for a cabaret in a night-club. I will remember this wine paired with the memories of a Christmas Day well spent—a moment of great contentment. Although this wine is still relatively young (Montrose is known for its superb aging potential), the blend danced across the palate with an almost seductive quality. The price is an issue though, especially on a student budget, but fortunately I was not paying and could simply enjoy the experience.

My interest in wine rarely strays far from the banks of the Gironde estuary. For me, the wine of Bordeaux is a world in itself. Its wine is not merely a drink; it is the embodiment of a small piece of earth. It is a result of the devotion and passion of the grower. It is essence of the land, the pride of the people, and the manifestation of centuries of commitment to viticultural excellence. I believe that tasting a Bordeaux wine is strongly enhanced by learning about the methods, grapes, people, climactic conditions and appellation of the Château. When you pull that cork out of the bottle, you are coming face to face the terroir. There in the bottle is the soil of a place, and in that soil is a soul.

Notes on Morning Behaviors:

A while ago I read Cortázar’s Autonauts of the Cosmoroute. While I did not find it particularly enlightening, I did like his daily descriptions of the meals that he ate. I have decided to give a brief description of my morning routine in homage to the great writer (hopefully you, dear reader, do not believe me to be equating myself to him, for that would be untrue). So here we are:

10:30 AM: Wake

10:45 AM: Rise

10:50 AM: Turn on shower (warm, naturally), and choose music to begin my day to. The music is usually something easily palatable, such as the Beach Boys, Dexter Gordon, folky Rolling Stones tracks, etc. Recently I have found that Blondie is a good way to begin the day as well.

11:00 AM: Exit shower and prepare shaving accoutrements. Recently I have begun shaving every morning (choice, not newfound necessity). I cannot recommend anything more highly than the products made by Italian company Proraso. They are not very expensive and the menthol in each product will have you feeling like a cold front made its way through your face (a good kickstart in my book).

11:01 AM: Shave

11:05 AM: Dress. See above/previous newletter for details on my clothing of choice.

11:10 AM: Make breakfast. This means eight cups of coffee, two slices of toast with butter and raspberry Bonne Maman jam, and a bottle of cold Topo Chico (must be served in a decoratively carved glass). I like to luxuriate while I eat breakfast, and recently it has been pleasant enough outside for me to sit on my balcony for an hour while I catch myself up on the news (scroll Twitter) and prepare myself for the day ahead.

After this I go about my day. Sometimes I read. On some days I might even write this very newsletter. Often I listen to the brilliant podcast “How Long Gone” as I eat. Ah, dear reader, please forgive me for this Hunter S. Thompson masquerade (he too is known for a list of his daily activities. His routine, however, includes much more cocaine). I will not delete the above because some may enjoy reading it, but come on, who do I think I am?

Some Songs That I Have Been Enjoying Recently:

“It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry” - Bob Dylan - Highway 61 Revisited (1965)